Elfling Harry
by Ottawa Pagan
Summary: Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?
1. Chapter 1

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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Harry knew something extraordinary had just happened to him. The first time he felt the awe and displacement of something akin to a miracle occurring, it had been when Hagrid met him for the first time and introduced him to the world of magic. The second time, it had been when Ginny asked him out after he had returned to Hogwarts after being on the run with Ron and Hermione. Now... it was the feeling of utter displacement that surrounded him. He no longer felt the burnt grass from the final battle beneath his body. He no longer felt the swell of dark magic in the air around him, the dark magic that stole away his best mate and girlfriend. He no longer heard the rustling sounds of Hermione crying somewhere nearby.

Instead, dew clung to his naked body beneath him. And his body felt... small. He could still feel the injuries from the final battle. The cuts and bruises stung quite fierce, and there was the steady pulsing of sharp pain in his shoulder and chest. But the air smelled cleaner then he had ever smelled before. Even the wind whispered soothing melodies to him, calming his war ridden mind.

Harry knew he had died. He had felt himself leave his body the moment he shot the spell towards Voldemort that would sacrifice his life for the death of his enemy. He had no regrets.

But... the fact was that he was still alive, in a land that was so silent compared to the war zone he left behind of fires blazing, people screaming and crying, blasts thrown everywhere and the never ending hum of energy that permeated the background. Instead, Harry took the silence and just breathed.

It was a few minutes that had passed before Harry heard some commotion off into the trees a bit far from him. He contemplated just staying where he was, but knew he should have his wounds tended to if he could.

Harry pulled himself to a standing position and blinked when he realized just how utterly short he was. He wasn't even 4 feet tall! He looked at his fingers and noticed how stubby they were. Was he a child? Or a creature of another race? Or just a shrunken man?

Instead of immediately going towards the sounds in the woods in search of help, he went off towards the stream. Hearing the soft guzzling of the water reminded Harry of how thirsty he was so he guzzled as much water as he could before he dared look at his reflection.

And what a reflection it was. His green eyes were enormous on his face. His hair was still as unkempt as ever. His skin was pale and his features were sharper then he remembered, even being laced with baby fat. And he was covered in blood and dirt.

Although the water was freezing cold, Harry went into it. He hissed as the water aggravated his wounds, but he took the sand from the shallow water to clean as much blood and dirt off as he could. He used the mud from the bottom of the water to scrub at his hair and wash out the blood.

Once all clean, he looked at himself once again, happy at the changes he saw. While the bruises and wounds stood out much brighter, he was definitely much cleaner and smelled less rotten.

Harry cocked his head to the side as he noticed his ears peaking out of his mostly clean hair. They were pointed.

Suddenly, there was a quiet from the woods that wasn't there a minute ago and Harry quickly ruffled his hair up to cover his ears again. No use having strangers notice his new ears if he himself didn't know what they meant.

He crouched down as a noise in the woods made its way closer towards him. He spotted a branch near him and quickly grasped it in his hands, waiting to see if the noise was friend or foe.

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	2. Chapter 2

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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Halbarad had been resting with his Ranger Brothers, Luin and Kilaren, in the outskirts of Trollshaws forest. They were trailing a pack of Orcs that they couldn't manage to catch up with. He was just about to wake Luin to take over the watch shift when he heard some odd noises in the woods. Just some soft rustling, possibly an animal he could hunt for some meat. He quietly shook Luin's shoulder, motioning to him to keep quiet.

The sounds changed as he could hear the animal heading towards the Hoarwell river, where he could hear it moving around in the shallow waters. He frowned, wondering what the animal was doing but he took out his bow and arrow. Luin nodded to him as he headed towards the noise.

As he reached the edge of the forest clearing closest to the water, he could see a small form moving in the shallow waters.

As he took a closer look, moving closer to the sight, he was completely startled to find a human child facing him. The child was holding a branch, his wary green eyes staring up at Halbarad.

"Easy there," murmured Halbarad, keeping his movements soft. He slowly put away his bow and arrow, keeping an eye out for the child's kin. Not seeing any other human, nor any clothing or items near the child, Halbarad wondered how this child ended up alone so far from any towns.

Halbarad kept moving closer to the boy in short, steady footsteps. He could see more of the child, the wounds and scars littering the little one's body seeming to beacon Halbarad to the child. He could see the fear in the boy's eyes but kept himself moving forward.

"Hey there, little one", Halbarad said softly, "I won't hurt you." When Halbarad was only a few feet in front of the boy, he knelt down, keeping his eyes softly on the young boy. He raised one hand out towards the child as an invite.

The boy stood there for several minutes, eyes staring at Halbarad in judgement. His lips were turning a light blue, and Halbarad could see the small tremors working though the boy's body. He smiled at the boy, turning his outreached hand slightly further towards the boy. What a relief it was when the boy took a step towards him. The child eyed the hand, and then stared a bit more, before softly taking the hand in his own.

"That's right, come with me", said Halbarad. His other hand moved slowly towards the boy. He could see the boy tensing but the boy allowed Halbarad to lift him onto his hip. The boy had to have been four or five years of age, and it tugged at Halbarad's chest to see such wounds on the child. He kept talking softly to the boy to calm him, and slowly, the boy leaned his body against Halbarad's, seemingly to soak up all the heat Halbarad's body gave off.

When Halbarad broke through the greenery that lined his camp, he stopped and waited at the edge. He worried that the presence of the other two men would frighten the boy. Luin looked at Halbarad with a grin on his face, which turned into one of shock as he noticed the boy in his arms.

"Halbarad?" he asked, his question lying on the wind. Disbelief shone on Luin's face and Luin stood up and made his way over. Halbarad felt the boy bury himself further into his cloak, hiding his face away.

"I found him by the river, no items with him," answered Halbarad.

"How can that be? A child alone, here? And so young?" Luin walked up closer to Halbarad, cringing as he took note of the wounds. Luin shook Kilaren's shoulder to wake him, knowing he made the best medicines.

It didn't take long for Kilaren to have some medicines prepared. Halbarad held the child near the fire to keep warm while Kilaren's fingers began putting the paste onto the wounds and wrapping them up. He was surprised that the wounds were fresh enough that there was no infection started yet, even though the wounds appeared to have been slashed by some blade. There were no weapons or enemies in the wooded area that could have caused such damage.

Halbarad and his men spent a few minutes trying to get the boy to speak to them. Eventually they gave up and spoke to themselves about the possible causes of the wounds.

Halbarad made sure to keep his cloak surrounding the boy wherever Kilaren was not currently working. The boy had warmed up some, but even though the wounds must have hurt, he didn't make a sounds. His eyes were the only indication that he felt the pain as Kilaren worked on the open cuts.

"Such eyes..." spoke Luin, who was riffling though his pack for a shirt of his.

"I cannot tell his heritage," answered Halbarad. "He looks neither Dunedain, nor like the men of Moria."

"Perhaps he is from farther?" asked Luin, "Maybe from Mount Gundabad?"

"Perhaps," answered Halbarad. The men were silent as they watched Kilaren finish bandaging what he could.

"The wounds looked clean," reported Kilaren. "They should heal up nicely, though not quickly. We should keep an eye to ensure infection does not wander to the boy, but I think it should heal well."

Kilaren took the shirt offered from Luin and tucked it over the boys head, ignoring the way the boy shied away from his hands. The shirt fell well beyond the boy's feet. The men looked to one another in question.

"Another night then?" asked Halbarad. The two men nodded back at him in answer before taking their weapons up in preparation for patrol. Halbarad leaned back with the boy, feeling the drowsiness pick up in the boy from all the medicines. The other two men did some light patrolling in the area to see if there was any evidence of other people or the boy's possessions but found nothing.

Coming back with no information to share, the three men waited another night before making their way towards Tirythem, a town just south of the ford of Bruinen.

All the men wondered at the boy who now rode with them, hoping to bring the boy some comfort in the form of a family. While they dreamed of finding the perfect family that would adopt the boy in Tirythem, they would only find out though time, just how wrong this decision would be.

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	3. Chapter 3

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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When Harry woke, he was surrounded by the three men who were obviously warriors. He was confused for a moment, trying to remember where he were before he remembered the day before. His wounds felt a lot better but he knew there was still a lot of healing left. His ribs were still sore but the doctor didn't notice when he was checking for the wounds. Harry was thankful that he did notice the bruise on his chest where he applied salve onto it, and the many cuts and burns he needed tending.

Harry noticed he was still in the arms of the first man. He was very comfortable there and one of the things he realized the day before was how many of his instincts felt out of sync, as though he really was the infant his body now resembled. His seventeen year old mind fought with his new infant mind, both working together but, he was feeling a loss of emotional control. It was all he could do from crying out from the healing the day before.

He could feel himself needing the care of an adult to watch over him, to watch over him and give him physical comfort. The way the man held him was such a relief to his four year old mind that his eighteen year old mind, his logical mind, gave in and let himself be the weak, needy four year old child that he had become.

When Harbarad offered to hold him the day before, it was all Harry could do to jump into his arms and hide away from the world.

Harry noticed some eyes watching him. It was the man who healed him. The man spoke to Harry with a smile but Harry just blinked back at the man not understanding the words he spoke. He had hoped that at least the language the people in this world spoke would be the same as his but the only language he heard the men speak so far was very alien to his own language or even Latin. He couldn't recognize a single word.

He hoped that with his body being that of a child, that he'd also pick up new languages as fast as children did.

The doctor spoke a bit more to him before he went and woke up the other two men. The doctor gave Harry a puzzled look but then just patted Harry's head.

It wasn't long before the men had packed up the camp into bags that hung off the horses and off their own backs. Harry was given a few moments to relieve himself, which was very awkward for him as he had never remembered having anyone watch him before but the men seemed reluctant to leave him alone for any amount of time.

As the first man brought Harry up onto the horse with him, the doctor came over and started to trim the oversize shirt he wore so it would at least be short enough that it wouldn't trip Harry when he walked.

Harry made a grabbing motion at the cut off material with his hands. The doctor spoke to him again but again, Harry didn't understand. Harry gave him another shy smile and pointed at the cloth in a grabbing motion once again.

He was handed the material and Harry wound the material up into a headband style cloth and put it over his head to cover his forehead and ears, for even though his hair was long and ruffled so that it covered his ears, he knew they had a chance of being seen. So far, the men had not noticed his ears and they didn't seem to care much about his lightning bolt scar more than any of the other scars on his body. He still didn't know what it meant to have pointed ears, just that it separated him from normal in this world.

Harry ended up enjoying the horse back riding, though it was a bit awkward for him as he was seated on the first man's lap facing behind them. It was very comforting to Harry though, and he was engulfed in warmth.

He remembered the day before when he was coming out of the river water, how frozen he was. He willed his magic to warm himself but he couldn't get his magic to respond at all. He was so thankful for the warmth they were sharing with him.

The journey itself ended up being very quiet and the men were on alert watching their surroundings as they traveled. Harry ended up sleeping on and off during the journey as the men made their way on an unseen path in the middle of a forest.

Harry was uncomfortable relinquishing his hold on the first man as they stopped for a rest at a side road. He peered up at the tall man with wide eyes as the man laughed at him softly. The man spoke softly to Harry once again before he plopped Harry down in the middle of a small field where the men begun to unload their gear for the night. The men did a quick search around the area while Harry sat with the gear and horses.

The food the men had shared with Harry were very good. It included berries that Harry had never seen before. He examined the food carefully before eating it so that he could identify the food in the woods if he ever needed to scavenge for himself. The food here, while good, included many fruits he didn't think existed back home. Plus, Harry was a little worried that the men might abandon him. He didn't think they would, because they took care of him so far, but he knew he was a burden to them.

He was still quite uncertain with them, especially since he didn't know their language. They would chuckle at him as he made a mess on his shirt when he ate the food up. He couldn't help it; the food was so good and he was starving.

Again that night, he fell asleep with the first man, feeling quite safe. Part of him wondered if this is what it would have been like to have fallen asleep with Sirius or his father.

The next day was about the same but he noted that the men gave him many snacks throughout the day – it seemed they picked up on his hunger and were making sure he was well taken care of. It helped Harry quite a bit, even though it always embarrassed him, making him blush.

Over the course of the few days, Harry got closer to them and could feel his trust for them growing, but he still didn't know where they were going or what they were going to do with him. He started learning a few words like food and water, but he was very limited. He was quite pleased to at least learn their names, even if he never used them.

On the fifth day, it was still quiet in the woods. He noticed night falling, and that the men still hadn't stopped for the night. When Harry gave the man holding him an inquisitive look, Harbarad smiled down at him and spoke words Harry couldn't understand as he pointed to off in the distance where there were some lights in the sky that Harry guessed came from a town or city.

About another hour later, Harry could see the stars get dulled out in the sky by the lights of the town they were entering. The men began chatting with themselves quietly while wandering the town. Harry watched the people of the town, noting that though they didn't quite look like the same race as the men he was traveling with, none looked anything like him.

Harry saw them exchange money with what appeared to be the host of an establishment. They were shown to a huge room with two beds in it. Harry once again spent the night sharing a bed with the first man while the other two took shifts during the night. The bed was magnificent to Harry, almost as soft as the beds at Hogwarts.

It was the most comfortable sleep Harry had since he arrived in the new land. Possibly the best sleep in years, considering the camping he did with Hermione and Ron, and the constant state of stress that overwhelmed him from proper sleep.

He dreamed of finally belonging to a family, and wondered if his new body was a blessing that would lead him to people who would love him as family.

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	4. Chapter 4

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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In the morning as Harry ate with the men, he could feel a different type of energy in the air. He wasn't sure what it was, but when Halbarad offered to carry him again, Harry reached his arms up and held on carefully to the gruff man. The other two men spoke softly to Harry before taking off in a different direction then Harry. He frowned at them as Halbarad carried him off in a different direction towards the rows of homes in the distance.

Harry got to explore more of the town they were in. The homes were very quaint, short and simply made. Similar to what he had seem as Goblins' homes, mud houses and some with brick.

The man brought Harry to many homes, talking to various people in the town. Some of the people would watch Harry and lean in as if to hold him but he would cower in the shoulders of his friend.

Around lunch time, they arrived in another home of a woman who reminded Harry of his aunt Petunia. It set off alarm bells in his mind so he made sure to keep close to his friend Halbarad. The women had dark hair and eyes, with a stern face on her. She looked very different then his friend, who while also having dark hair and eyes, had more angular shapes and a softer smile.

The food he was served was amazing, and he could tell by the sounds Halbarad made, that he also enjoyed the well made food.

There was a little girl hiding beneath the table where Harry was sitting. Harry peaked down at her as she grinned back up at him, her curly blond hair shaking around her head like a halo. The little girl pointed towards the back and then ran out, ducking under the woman's skirt as she ran.

Harry looked up at Halbarad, wondering if he had noticed the little girl. He smiled down at Harry then pointed at the little girl in a motion telling Harry to go ahead. Harry smiled and got down, running after the little girl. He had tripped a lot on his way, since he still hadn't gotten use to his shrunken body. Most of the time, he had been carried around, either because of his physical age or because of his injuries.

He was curious about what was behind the house and about the girl. She didn't look like the older woman at all. The girl reminded him of a girl he knew in primary school, outgoing and sweet.

The girl ended up handing Harry some dolls, making Harry chuckle. He might be back in a four year old body but there was no way he was going back to playing with dolls. So he dragged her over to the sand on the ground and made some castles with the girl, giving in to his childish need to play.

After a while, Harry felt like someone was watching him but he couldn't see who. The feeling nagged a him, so he pretended not to notice and tried to figure out who it was. A little later, Halbarad came out of the house along with the lady and beckoned Harry to him.

His friend looked happy and relieved. Harry grabbed up towards the man and was lifted up, but instead of being placed on his hip, he was handed over to the women. Harry started pushing away immediately, so Halbarad started to rub Harry's head in a calming manner. Terrified that the headband would be moved and his ears revealed, Harry stopped struggling but frowned towards the ground.

He was eventually let down to play with the little girl but Harry stood by his friend instead. Harry's friend lowered himself down towards Harry and started speaking to him softly. Harry could tell there was something important the man was saying – he was speaking so earnestly and softly, as though he was saying goodbye. Harry started freaking out, grabbing at the man. The man hugged him back hard, while being careful of the many wounds Harry still had, and mumbled words into Harry's ear. Harry never wanted to understand this strange language more than in this moment.

Halbarad kissed Harry's forehead and then headed away from the house. Harry felt dismay filling him as he watched the man he'd grown to care for walk away. Harry wondered if it was because of how much of a burden he was to the man.

The women stood there smiling down at him but she still creeped him out. Harry bit his lip, looking at her apprehensively. She opened the door wider as she invited him back into the home.

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I like reviews :)

If you like it, tell me :)

If you don't, be gentle, but you can tell me :)

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	5. Chapter 5

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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The first day at the house wasn't too bad for Harry. He slept on the floor on the living room on a pile of blankets. While not comfortable, it was much better than some of the other beds he had slept on in the past, including the bed at the Dursley's. And it was definitely better than the make shift beds he and his friends made while on the run from Death Eaters when they had all their provisions stolen from them.

The next morning, he was given a small breakfast and the blond girl pulled Harry out to play outside again. It was around noon when the sun was high, and Harry was in the back yard, that the women came to the door and watched Harry. He could see that something had changed with her. It was as if she had been waiting for something, and whatever that was, it happened. She started talking to Harry, getting harsher and harsher the longer she spoke to Harry without him responding. She roughly grabbed at Harry, pulling him up into a stand and dragging him into the house, jarring his still healing arm.

She brought him to a hidden door in the hallway that lead to a staircase to the basement. In the downstairs, it was a short hallway with six different doors. He couldn't see into the doors as they were all kept closed with huge padlocks on them. He was dragged to the back of the hallway where the one door was left open. She put him into the room and locked it behind her.

He looked around and noted the tiny straw bed that took up half of the tiny room. A chamber pot was beside the door. Other than that, the room was bare. It smelled musty and old. He could hear shuffling in the other rooms but everyone was very quiet. He wrapped his arms around his legs and wondered what exactly he had gotten into. He wondered what he had done that made the men not want to keep him, to bring him to this place. Why was his luck so horrible?

Sirius had been the only person who had wanted to keep him before, and Sirius had died a long time ago. It was no wonder the men didn't keep him, for why would they, when so many other people had not? He was tired of being tossed around and given away, and not understanding why people didn't want to keep him.

Harry could feel the tears welling in his eyes but he didn't have the heart to keep them back. His mind, half that of a four year old and half that of a teenager, gave in and cried out in pain. Not the physical pain, but the emotional – for the feeling of loss and abandonment that overwhelmed him.

When morning came, Harry woke quickly. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep. He checked around his room, seeing if there was a possible way out but he couldn't find one. Even the door was tightly locked beyond his reach.

He wondered if they would come to give them food or water, or to empty his chamber pot, for the downstairs smelled quite bad from all the chamber pots the different rooms. Eventually a teenage girl came in and exchanged his chamber pot for an empty one. Harry smiled at her but she wouldn't smile back, her eyes darting around nervously as she shut the door and locked it back up before continuing down the hall to the other rooms.

Harry started formulating a plan for escape. He figured the teenage girl must come daily. He could run past her quickly, dash though the hall and up the stairs. He remembered the house layout well enough to be able to make a quick run for it, even in his shortened body. He wasn't sure why he was being kept in a room, but he felt it might be even worse than the Dursleys. While he didn't have any chores, he also had not been given food or water since the breakfast he was given the day before.

He was left alone for the day in relative silence. He could hear slight movements in the other rooms but couldn't make figure out what everyone was doing.

He wondered about those who were in the other rooms. Was the curly haired girl in one of those rooms? Harry sat there watching at the door, waiting and wondering if someone would open it up. He could hear someone walking through the hallway and opening the door. A male voice reverberated though the basement as he spoke to the inhabitants in the rooms. He could hear the sounds of someone that was obviously a child in one of the other rooms crying out after what sounded like something being thrown. He covered his ears, not wanting to hear more. For even though he wanted to rush out there and help the child, he knew with his body that there wasn't much he could do.

He focused his mind on the door, muttering over and over "_Alohomora_" , trying to unlock the door with his magic. But his magic wouldn't budge. It remained stuck in his body, buzzing within him but not working with him.

It felt like a few hours had passed and eventually he could hear the man exit the area, the loud banging of the basement door slamming shut. He could hear the man speaking to the woman of the house before their voices faded in the distance.

After another restless sleep, Harry was startled awake as his bedroom door was slammed open. In came this man who reminded Harry of Hagrid, for his body was wide, and hairy and covered in fur, but he lacked Hagrid's soft smile, and sense of security Hagrid always provided Harry. There wasn't a moment that Hagrid felt unsafe to Harry. But here, this man was eyeing Harry with his dark beady eyes, cataloging him.

The woman of the house muttered something to the man before leaving him alone with Harry. The torch the man carried was placed in a holder high on the wall and the door was closed behind him. The man continued staring at Harry, before walking closer to him. Harry was very frightened at this point, for he knew that with his little body, lack of food, and his lack of magic, there was very little he could do to defend himself from the giant of a man. Harry still have no idea what was happening in this place but he heard the terror in the voices of the others in the basement when the man was around.

The man grabbed at Harry, and held him down, looking on in amusement as Harry tried to fight back. Harry's body was so weak from the lack of food however, that it didn't take long for his body to give out on him. He laid there panting, out of breath, as the man held him down with one huge hand holding Harry's tiny ones, and another holding his waist down. Harry's wounds ached fiercely from being manhandled.

The man then took an inventory of Harry, confusing him. He checked Harry's hand and feet for wounds, and didn't seem too displeased at the fading injuries Harry had. He started talking to Harry in the language that still puzzled Harry. The man's anger grew the longer Harry didn't answer.

Then the man grabbed for Harry's headband. Harry tried to squirm away but couldn't do anything. The man ripped it off his head, then stared at Harry's head as though trying to figure out exactly what it was covering up. It didn't take long for the man to notice Harry's ears. When he saw them, his finger traced over them, causing an unwelcomed shutter to move though Harry's body. The man replaced the headband back on Harry's head, shuffling the hair around to make sure it wouldn't fall off. Harry was glad when the man appeared ready to let go of Harry, but instead of just unhanding him, Harry found himself thrown against the wall.

The man spoke to him again, his voice lit with some type of humour, but Harry just frowned at him and watched the man leave the room, the heavy lock sliding into place on the other side of the door.

Harry didn't know what to do, but he knew for certain, the next time he saw that man, Harry was in for a world of trouble. He sat there frozen for a while, wondering what he had done to deserve such a fate.

That night, Harry once again went to bed hungry, but because of all that happened, he didn't think he would have been able to eat anyways.

He knew that next day, he would have to escape when that teenager came to empty his chamber pot.

Harry slept horribly that night.

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I like reviews :)

If you like it, tell me :)

If you don't, be gentle, but you can tell me :)

if you see a big flaw, be gentle, but you can tell me :)


	6. Chapter 6

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

***If you wish to skip the parts that mention child abuse, skip to chapter Seven***

It's not explicit but does bother some people

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The next morning, Harry found himself quite exhausted. He once again went around the room looking for a possible way to get out. He cursed his short stature and the weakness of his body. He wasn't sure if it would be wise to start working out to gain strength in his body, because he had no food to sustain him and it might only make him weaker.

All day, he heard the scuffling of the people in the other rooms. Sometimes he heard them muttering to each other softly but he couldn't make out any of the words. He shook at the door, but although it made loud clanging noises, no one came down. Every time he shook at the door, everyone on the floor would go utterly quiet, as though they were waiting to see what would happen. But Harry had to try so he would shake harder and harder, trying to dismantle the old style lock from his door. He begged his magic to come out to help him but it stubbornly stayed stuck within him.

He waited around lunch, thinking the teenage girl might come back down for the chamber pots, but there was no noise, nothing. By late afternoon, Harry was quite thirsty and hadn't had anything to drink. While he was use to starvation, his four year old body wasn't adapting well to the lack of food and water. As cruel as his aunt and uncle were, they at least gave him water once a day.

Once evening came, Harry could once again hear the person checking into the different rooms. Harry wondered about how he could escape. He positioned himself by the door, crouched and ready to run. He could hear someone going into the other rooms. Every once and a while there would be a thud or bang in one of the rooms accompanied by someone crying out in pain. He bit his lip, worry building in him. He knew that if he was able to escape, then the moment he was able to, he'd come back somehow and rescue the others here. There was no way the Gryffindor inside of him would abandon them. At the very least, he would find them some help.

He heard some movement as someone came farther down the hallway towards his room. He could hear heavy footsteps stopping outside his door, and listened as the locks were being undone. The moment that someone opened his door, Harry didn't waste a moment to look at the man before he was off running down the hall towards the stairs. He skidded down the hall, and just as he went to climb the stairs, he saw the face of the Hagrid man looking down at him in amusement. Harry was then thrown back down the stairs. His head hit the basement floor and then Harry knew no more.

When Harry woke, he found himself tied up on his bed. A dirty cloth was between his teeth, making him unable to breath properly. Harry wasn't sure how long it had been since he had been pushed down the stairs but he knew it had been days.

The burly man who had opened his door earlier that week eventually made his appearance later that day, and spoke to Harry again in a voice Harry couldn't understand. Harry just watched him hesitantly, not sure what he should do to keep safe, but hoping that his silence would help.

The man brought some pieces of cloth in with him, and he bellowed down the hall. The teenage girl who replaced the chamber pots quickly entered, holding what looked to be crude sewing tools. The man leaned against the wall as the girl hurried over to Harry and untied him from the bed. She then attempted to teach him to make sewn dolls, like the ones the little curly blond girl had tried to have Harry play with outside. Harry kept himself uninvolved for a bit until he noticed the anger growing in the man's eyes as he watched them.

Harry hesitantly began mimicking the teenager's movement, his sewing job pretty bad in comparison. He bit his lip nervously as the man watched on unimpressed. He spoke out at Harry angrily, pointing to the dolls and the material before calling the girl away with him.

Once they had left, Harry wrapped his arms around himself for comfort. Tears of frustration rolled down his face. Harry began marking the days down on the wall to keep track of how long he was there. In all that time, he still hadn't had a sip of water.

Over the next few days, he continued listening to the others living in the basement with him. Although he could hear them speaking sometimes, he could never make out the words, and the few words he heard never made sense to him.

He knew one of the girls was named Tarin, who spoke to a boy named Sarritt, and they both sounded awfully young as well.

The next day when the teenage girl came to empty the chamber pot, and deliver his first glass of water, she was accompanied by a different man who eyed Harry as though he was garbage. Harry came to recognize this man as the husband to the woman of the house. He became a regular to Harry as the girl never came down unaccompanied again. Harry was lucky enough to have some water and food delivered to him almost every day. Never enough to satisfy him, but enough that Harry wouldn't die.

Every once in a while, in the first couple of days, Harry would try to get out and would bang his arms and body against the door to try to pry it loose. It tended to make a very large racket that reverberated though the hall, always silencing the others. One day, the man who looked like Hagrid came down after the noise and came storming into Harry's room. The beating he received reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon's but this man didn't know when to stop. Harry was out for many days after that, unable to get up.

Harry eventually figured out that he was living in a sweat shop. Many of the other children made dolls, while some made wooden buckets and crafts. Pity rose in Harry as he realized that some of the people down here had been there for quite some time.

After about a month, Harry wasn't certain if he could go on. He was weak, alone and exhausted. He needed a plan and soon. He was punished most days of the week because the dolls he made were so poorly made. After the first beating, Harry honestly tried to make dolls good enough to sell, but they never satisfied the man. Some of his more recent injuries burned with infection, and while they were not bad yet, he knew that if they were kept untreated, they could get much worse.

Luck was on his side that day, for when the teenage girl came down to clean, the man of the house was absent. Harry was getting desperate and knew his days were numbered. As quickly as he could, he ran past the girl, ignoring her gasps of surprise, and ran up the stairs. He pulled the heavy door open, making his way into the main floor of the house. The women was there and she rushed towards him with a snarl the moment his feet landed, but he ran in the opposite direction of her. He ended up in a back room and he slammed the door close behind him, pulling a chair up under its knob to it to keep it from opening.

His body bounced back as the woman slammed against the door, trying to open it, but the chair kept it from opening. Harry looked around quickly and saw the window. His adrenalin was surging, making him strong enough to pull the window open. He scooted out of the small window just as the women crashed into the room.

He quickly made his way down the street, running as fast as he could. The women hadn't followed him so he made his way back to the only place he was familiar with, the first place he slept with the rangers.

He made his way there and managed to keep to himself. He sneaked through in the shadows of the houses, and when he got inside the inn, he went into the dim eating room and hid himself down under a table. There he waited, unsure of what his next move would be.

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	7. Chapter 7

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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Harry was relieved to have finally escaped from the house. He counted himself lucky to have been able to find the inn to hide at, and he hoped his luck continued. Harry sat and hid under the table at the inn for a very long time. He was very fortunate that the table he choose was off in the corner so patrons would come and go frequently. Harry was able to grab food and water from the items left over on the table between customers.

By the time night fell, Harry had quenched his thirst and hunger. However, he still remained hidden beneath the table, knowing it wasn't safe yet to come out. He didn't know what to do, only that he needed to stay hidden from anyone who frequented the house he was captive at.

Harry had been paying a lot of attention to every person that entered the dark room, keeping his awareness on anyone who might resemble any of the men who had hurt Harry throughout the long month.

He noticed a man enter the room, one who reminded Harry of Luin, one of the men he had traveled with before he was discarded in this dingy town. It wasn't so much his looks, but rather his physical build and the quiet confidence that he gave off, that reminded Harry of Luin.

The man walked right over to the table that Harry hid under and sat down on the bench that was against the furthest wall in the room, overlooking everything from within the shadows. Harry curled a bit closer to the wall, moving away from the man's legs. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted the man to notice him... did he take a chance that the man was like Halbarad and his men, and if so, could he depend on him to care for him like the ranger did, or would he just be kicked off on the side to the nearest human willing to take him in?

Harry remained as quiet as he could, ignoring the desire within him to take comfort in the new man.

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It had been a long journey for Aragorn. While he was out watching over the lands as the Rangers often did, he had been following a group of troublemakers traveling through Rhudaur. These folk were looking for serious trouble. Aragorn had been inclined to kill them, but he had no proof of the atrocities Aragorn believed them to be guilty of. He followed them for a while to make sure the people in the neighboring towns were safe from them.

One of the tents that Aragorn was listening in on belonged to the leader of the group. It was a rainy night and the paths around the sleeping quarters were mostly bare. He saw a tall, wiry man enter the tent. Aragorn crouched closer to the ground by the tent intent on listening to their conversation. The man began speaking of how the town of Tirythem sold black market wooden dishes and trinkets. He began laughing, stating he heard that the trader with the goods kept nearly a dozen people hidden away in a basement. The man continued walking around the tent, attempting to engage the leader.

"And of all the children they have working for them? Would you like to hear the beauty of it?" the man asked. Not getting a response, the man continued, his voice raising. "One of their children... is an Elf child!" Both Aragorn and the leader jumped up at hearing this. Aragorn took out his sword, his focus narrowing.

Unfortunately for Aragorn, in the next instant, the winds quickly kicked up and turned some of the tents over. He had to rush out of the area quickly to keep himself hidden from the group. He was lucky that the rain removed any traces of him there, but he was furious that he wasn't able to hear more about this possible Elfling child.

It has been several centuries since an Elfling had been born. The people were long overdue for a birth, and many Elves had been concerned about the lack of new children. But, it was ludicrous for there to have been a child born and for Aragorn to not have heard of it. Celebrations lasted at least a century whenever a child was born, celebrating all the milestones as the Elfling matured into an adult.

Aragorn stopped following the band of men immediately when they began heading northward, and instead, he traveled towards the town of Tirythem. He was tempted to stop by Rivendale, his home, on the way, but even the extra two days it would cost him seemed too big to risk if the man was telling the truth.

Alone, Aragorn made his way into Tirythem, being careful to keep his identity quiet. The town was a mix of rich and poor with its criminals and its honest men. He decided to get a bit to eat and stay the night at the regular inn his men usually ventured to. It also had the added bonus of being one of the areas of town where people could overhear the best gossip. The ale they sold was some of the strongest in the lands, and it loosened the many tongues that tasted it.

It didn't take long for Aragorn's eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room. He choose the table in the back that would give him the most coverage in the shadows while still letting him see the most of everyone else. He had barely sat for a moment and had just landed his feet beneath the table when he sensed someone laying close to his legs.

He continued to sit down anyways, his ranger training allowing him to control his body movement so that he did not give off any indication that he was on alert. He knew that the table was too low for most warrior sized opponents, but even small men would be able to attack him efficiently if they knew the vulnerable spots in his legs.

It was a few moments before Aragorn could make out the soft breathing from beneath the seats. He stretched out his feet to get a better estimate of the size of the person beneath the table but never touched anybody. He surmised that the person beneath the table was either a hobbit or a child. Perhaps a child of one of the workers of the inn.

He pulled a mirror out of his pack, and after receiving his ale, he took out his mirror and held it over the edge of the table just enough to be able to see the reflection of the person hiding underneath it. He confirmed it was a child, with an odd wrapping around his head and the dirtiest clothes he had ever seen. And it was then that Aragorn could begin to smell the child. It was only the stench from the establishment mixed with alcohol and the sweat from the visiting men that kept Aragorn from having noticed the child's stench sooner.

Aragorn frowned, wondering how neglected the child was. Never one to stand by when children were suffering, Aragorn plotted how to get the boy some help. He ordered some food and bread. When it arrived, he broke his bread in half, and placed a piece of it along with the stew and water he ordered on top of the bench beside him in clear view of the child below. Then he remained as calm as possible, eating the half of bread he kept on the table.

It had been a while that had passed before Aragorn gave up on the boy eating the food. He could still hear the light breathing of the child but the child made no movement since his arrival.

He worried that the child might be unconscious, so he leaned back in his seat so he could peer down beneath the table. The child's vibrant green eyes peered back at him, frozen on the spot. Aragorn shared a soft smile with the boy, hoping to reassure him.

Aragorn started speaking softly to him, inviting him up and telling him he was safe. The boy seemed to listen but didn't move. His eyes stared intently at Aragorn, only shifting every few moments to view the people who were entering the room, before his eyes darted back to Aragorn. Aragorn could see the fear in the boy, not just of him but of everyone in the establishment.

Aragorn put the stew and bread back on the table and called over a worker. He asked for a room to rent for the evening, and for his food to be brought up. He handed over the money into her waiting hands. The women took the food away and Aragorn could see her speaking with another worker before she disappeared up the stairs. Aragorn quietly waited for her return.

"It's room 4, on the second floor. Anything else?" she asked, checking him out casually.

"Water for a bath," Aragorn replied, leaning back. She nodded before heading away. He knew from previous visits that the water would be ready quickly so he returned his attention back to the boy.

Aragorn got up and moved to the other side of the table, his back blocking everyone's view of the secluded corner of the room. He pulled his cloak over himself, leaving lots of extra material at the front of his body to cover the boy in, assuming he'd be able to coax the child out. He wanted to be able to cover the child to give him some sense of security from the other patrons.

He could not bend or kneel towards the child to call him out because he knew it would raise attention from others, so instead, he made beckoning motions with his hands trying to entice the child to come closer. He kept speaking softly to the child, telling him that he'd be safe, and that he could wash and sleep upstairs where it was warm and comfortable.

Aragorn couldn't tell if the boy could understand him but he kept speaking for a while. He could see the indecision in the child's face. The child noticed Aragorn's ranger amulet that hung from his neck and he stared at it for a few moments as though recognizing it. Aragorn wondered if the boy had a run in with Rangers before since he showed familiarity with the symbol. Finally, the child seemed to come to a decision. He crawled out from under the table into Aragorn's awaiting arms. Aragorn quickly lifted the child, covering his body with his cloak, before he made his way up the stairs and into his room.

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	8. Chapter 8

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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Once the two of them were in the room, Aragorn locked the door quickly behind them, putting the wooden bar into the latches that held it firm against the door frame.

He could see the boy staring at him, uncertain what to do. Aragorn started speaking to the boy but the boy was unresponsive.

Aragorn wondered at the child's fate... why had he been there at the inn, hidden like that? He was so small, possibly only 4 or 5 years of age, and he was utterly starved. He wondered if the boy was somehow associated with the Elfling that Aragorn searched for, but with the boy staying so quiet, he doubted the boy would share information with him any time soon. Aragorn fretted about his decision to skip past Rivendale. Now, more than ever, Aragorn wanted to search the town and see if there were any more human children who were being harmed, and to search for the Elfling that may or may not exist. But he knew there was nothing he could do until morning when hopefully the child would speak to him.

Aragorn watched as the boy noticed the bathroom. The air above the bath had rolling steam dissipating into the ceiling. The boy slowly head towards the large bath while keeping an eye on Aragorn. Aragorn smiled at the boy, trying to indicate that the water was for him. By now, Aragorn could tell the boy couldn't hear well, or at the very least, couldn't understand Aragorn's language. He pulled some supplies out of his travel bag and found his soap and shampoo.

Upon entering the bathroom, Aragorn was startled to see the boy in the water. It wasn't so much that the boy was in the water that was startling, or the rusty tinge the water took from the boy's blood and dirt, but rather, the number of wounds and scars that Aragorn could now see sprayed upon the boy's body. He relaxed the expression on his face into a soft smile when he noticed the boy watching him in fear.

"Here, let me help," spoke Aragorn, hoping that even if the boy didn't understand him, he could hear Aragorn's intentions in the sound of his voice.

He grabbed a cloth by the side and soaked it before foaming it up with the soap he brought. He made sure the boy could see his movements, but he knew better then to slow his movement too much or to ask for permission. The boy certainly would have wanted privacy for his bath, for even with his young age, Aragorn could see how hesitant he was with Aragorn as a stranger. But the boy was filthy and would not be able to do a thorough cleaning himself. Aragorn needed to see if there were any open wounds to tend to and found there to be many. He made sure to clean those as much as possible.

The boy tensed under his hands as the cloth rubbed upon his back. The changes in the boy's colouring was drastic – bright white skin laid under the dirt, but beyond that, the messy purple and blues of bruising danced with the scars on his back. Aragorn kept his expression soft and pretended to ignore the sight as he made his way methodically cleaning the boy.

One his body was cleaned, Aragorn was left with the hair. It was quite greasy and scruffy and had some blood dried into it. He spoke softly to the boy, reaching to remove the headband from his head. The boy clamped his hands against his ears, holding the cloth in place. He frowned up at Aragorn.

"Come now, we have to wash your hair," Aragorn spoke, his voice stern but gentle. He narrowed his eyes. He put one arm behind the boy and lowered the boy's body backwards into the water so he could rinse the hair in the water. The boy startled and threw his hands out to hold on to the sides of the tub.

"It's ok, you're safe," Aragorn murmured, his other hand rinsing the boy's hair in the water. He quickly removed the cloth with his one hand and further rinsed the boy's head.

"_No!"_ the boy cried out in Sindarin. Shock vibrated though Aragorn's body as he realized exactly who was in the tub. His heart raced in his chest as his mind whirled, unable to comprehend that this boy was the rumoured Elfling. He could only watch distractedly as the boy steadied himself and put the band back upon his head, glaring all the while at Aragorn.

He blinked his eyes a few times, and steadied his mind.

"_Shh, it's ok. We just need to wash your hair," _Aragorn spoke, pretending everything was normal in an attempt to calm the boy.

"_You understand me!"_ the boy asked, his voice bright with undisclosed disbelief.

"_That I do, little one,"_ replied Aragorn, who once again moved his hand to remove the headband from the boy. The boy just gaped at him further, making no move to stop Aragorn's actions.

"_But how? Noone understood! Noone..."_ Aragorn could see the boy getting upset. Tears threatened to spill over the boys cheeks.

"_It's alright, I can understand you,_" Aragorn said. He took the time to gently clean the boy's hair, putting a good amount of hair cleaning in the boy's dark tresses and taking his comb though it to help. He took great care to be gentle around the boys ears in an attempt not to touch them, knowing from his family how sensitive they were. "_I imagine it was very frightening to be here and have no one understand you,"_ Aragorn continued. He watched as the boy nodded, his jaw clenched tightly. Aragorn once again rinsed the boy's hair out then beckoned him to stand. The boy held onto his hands as he let the water drain from the tub.

"_They hurt me..."_ the boy said, looking at Aragorn sadly.

"_Who?" _asked Aragorn.

"_The men from the house,"_ the boy answered, looking outside the window. Aragorn felt his anger rising as he realized the child was blaming people in this town for hurting him, a young elfling. He tried to get the boy to speak more but he just kept his gaze staring outside the window. Aragorn switched topics, knowing he could ask more questions the following day.

"_I will have to use our drinking water to rinse you with," _Aragorn warned, upset with himself for not separating some of the warm water before it was dirtied. He hated the idea of using cold water on the boy, but he wanted the last bit of dirt off the boy so it wouldn't aggravate his wounds.

The boy nodded at him before sitting himself back down in the tub, his mind lost in thought. It took Aragorn little time to rinse the boy one last time before he applied a salve to the open wounds on the boy's body. There were a number of them to cover but Aragorn knew his father would be able to heal them once they arrived to Rivendell. Aragorn bundled him up in a towel, then took him to the side of the room onto a bed before drying him completely. He brought over the stew and bread from earlier and left it in front of the boy. The soup still held warmth and the boy sipped it slowly until it was gone. Aragorn hoped it helped warm the boy's body further.

"_Here,_" said Aragorn as he lifted a shirt from his pack. It was very nearly the same shirt the boy had been wearing when Aragorn met him, but in much better condition. Aragorn pulled it over the boy's body, smiling as the boy looked up at him with his bright forest green eyes.

"_So little one, what name do you have?"_ Aragorn asked, wanting to build some trust into the boy. It seemed the question triggered something in the boy, however. His frown returned, and he looked away from Aragorn and remained stubbornly staring at the wall.

Aragorn tried again.

"_My name is Aragorn in these parts, but my father, the Elf Lord Elrond of Rivendell, named me Estel."_ Aragorn could see the curiosity rising in the boy's eyes. Hoping to get the boy to open up further, Aragorn continued. "_It was many years ago that I first meet my father, Elrond. My first father who cared for me until my second age was murdered by Orcs. My mother took us to Rivendall to King Elrond, where it's been said that he took one look into my eyes and knew from that day forward, that I would be family._"

Aragorn could see the yearning in the boy's gaze when he spoke of his adopted family, and felt a deep sense of pity for the boy in front of him. But he knew that the moment the boy was in Rivendall, he would find family.

"_Where is your family?"_ Aragorn asked. "_Should I bring you to them?"_ Aragorn knew, deep in his heart, the answer he would receive from the boy. There was no way an Elfling was left to fend for themselves unless there was no Elf left standing.

"_Noone left,"_ the boy whispered, his fingers playing with the hem of the over-sized shirt.

"_Come with me to Rivendell. There are many elves who would be very happy to have the chance to get to know you. Maybe we can find you another family there, just as I did so many years ago."_

The boy's eyes were so large, so yearning, that Aragorn could not help but move over to the small boy and pull him into his embrace. He cherished the feeling of the boy against him, a part of him wondering if he would ever work things out with Arwen and possibly, one day, have his own little one to claim.

It wasn't long before the boy was asleep in his arms. He laid the boy down beneath the covers of the bed before setting his mind adrift for the next day.

Oh, how he wanted to storm through the town and find the cretins who hurt this young one, but he knew getting the boy to safety was his first priority. It ended up being a very restless night for him as he sprawled out on the chair he was on in an attempt to keep the boy comfortable and safe in the bed alone. Aragorn needed to be alert, even in his restless sleep so kept himself away from the comfortable bed, regardless of how much he wanted to cuddle the hurt child.

When Aragorn woke the next morning, it wasn't the shifting of the Elfling that had awakened him. Downstairs, he could hear a commotion. Aragorn peered though the curtains covering his room's window and saw some men out with dogs searching the grounds. Aragorn knew immediately who they were searching for.

A fierce light burned in Aragorn's eyes as he made his way over to his small charge. No one would get in his way of bringing this child to Rivendell.

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	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note:

To those who have been following this story before Nov 13th, I made some changes... I rewrote some chapter 6 and 7. However, the plot remains the same and won't affect the overall story plot

thanks for understanding.

~C


	10. Chapter 10

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

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Quick note - if you're interested in being a Beta, let me know :)

Harry was extremely startled the next morning when Aragorn woke him. He was still exhausted and his body burned from the wounds that he knew were infected. The paste the man applied soothed the burning somewhat but they were nothing compared to the healing salves he was use to from Hogwarts.

He jumped as Aragorn spoke to him urgently, urging him to remain quiet and calm. Harry blinked at him as a heavy cloak was wrapped around Harry, enfolding him into a bundle that Aragorn then carried against his chest. Harry lifted his one arm to wrap around Aragorn's neck, before Aragorn hurried out of the room and ran down a set of stairs in the back that Harry hadn't noticed the previous day.

He could hear the man's heart beat hammering in his chest beneath where his head leaned, but he could barely see from outside the cloak. He was jerked from Aragorn's chest and barely kept his startled cry in, as the cloak was readjusted around him and he found himself on top of a huge horse. Within moments, Aragorn had attached his bags to the side of the horse and sat himself behind Harry, shuffling Harry against his body once again.

The air whipped around Harry as the horse galloped off away from the inn where Harry had stayed. He took a chance and lifted his head over Aragorn's shoulder to peer behind him. He lost his breath the moment his eyes made contact with the Hagrid-man who was standing outside the inn.

The man yelled out at Aragorn, his tone filled with anger. Harry could feel the horse pick up its pace into a full run as Aragorn swore, leaning his body down closer to Harry and the horse.

As the crest of the woods got closer, a swish in the air surprised Harry. He followed the movement in the air and found an arrow in the ground. He clamped his eyes closed, holding on tighter to Aragorn. He feared his luck would continue as it always did, and Aragorn would pay the price.

"_Please, please, keep us safe!"_ Harry began repeatedly muttering, his tiny voice carrying around him. "_Please, please, help us!"_

When the horse landed after a tall jump, Harry steeled himself and pulled himself up once again to see how they were fairing. He took a look over Aragorn's shoulder, and could see vines and tree branches seemingly falling into the path that Aragorn had just left. The few horses behind them were slowing down, and one outright stopped, unwilling to enter the woods further. A few arrows were still landing near them, but they were quickly making distance between themselves and the men.

It was about ten minutes later that Harry felt the horse slow down into a gentle gallop. The path they had fled was now almost entirely overgrown with vines.

"_Are you hurt at all?"_ asked Aragorn, his dark eyes peering down at Harry. Harry shook his head no.

"_That was quite some skills you have," _Aragorn said, as he patted the horses' neck and continued to lead the horse onward. "_I have friends among the woodland elves who have gifts to communicate with the land but it isn't often that I see these gifts."_

Harry wasn't sure how to respond so he kept quiet. Luckily, Aragorn didn't seem to mind the silence as they continued on. He wasn't sure what happened to his magic. He hadn't even realized he was using his magic when he was calling out for help, for he didn't even know who would hear his pleas. But now, he could feel the buzz in his body that came after the use of magic. He was so relieved that his magic hadn't left him, and more, he could access it without his wand!

But Harry had so many questions. Why didn't his magic work earlier? Where was he? Why was Aragorn taking care of him? How far away from Hogwarts was he? He knew he was no longer in the Muggle or Wizarding world, but he knew he never paid enough attention in History to learn about the other types of communities. If only Hermione was here... Feeling overwhelmingly homesick, Harry leaned tighter against the man, wondering what his next move should be. He had no idea where Aragorn was taking him, and he still wasn't sure how much information he should share. Here he was, eighteen years old, and unable to do anything for himself. Would the man stop helping him if he realized Harry was much older than his new body seemed? With that, Harry decided to keep quiet, rather than start any conversations that might lead to questions he couldn't answer.

"_You'll like Imladris, Little one. My father, Elrond, has a fondness for all children, one that seems to outshine even the love that all elves have for the young."_

Harry curled his fingers tighter in the cloth of Aragorn's shirt. He had a decision to make. Did he keep his identity a secret? Could he risk being abandoned again because of his age? Or would they abandon him regardless, as seemed to happen frequently to him. Harry scrunched his face up in thought. He knew Aragorn was bringing him to Imladris to give him away to his father. His elf father... Would the Elves take care of him, help him find his way home and turn his body back into that of an adult? Or would they expect something from him, like the Hagrid-like man had?

He hadn't noticed that he started trembling, but he could feel the soft rubbing of Aragorn's hand upon his back. Aragorn began singing a soft song that had to have been a lullaby. Harry found himself caught up in the song, and soon fell asleep to the gentle rhythms of it.

It was Aragorn's soft voice that woke him from his deep slumber. Harry couldn't remember his dreams but he knew they were not the regular nightmares that he'd grown use to. He always remembered those, and awoke with an adrenalin rush afterwards.

"_Little one, look ahead,"_ Aragorn said softly. Harry turned his head around and looked out before him. He could see beautiful stone archways, elaborate houses, and buildings that looked like castles but so different than that of Hogwarts. Harry could barely keep his neck from straining as he peered everywhere around him in awe. Aragorn chuckled from above him, his warm breath flitting against Harry's head. Aragorn got off the horse and pulled Harry onto his hip.

"_It's beautiful, isn't it?"_ Aragorn asked, his face full of pride as he looked around. Harry could only nod.

Two people suddenly appeared before them and began speaking to Aragorn. They kept glancing at him, but Harry ignored their looks and their conversation and decided to study them instead. The first thing Harry noticed was how incredibly tall they were. They towered over Aragorn even. They had pale skin, angular features, and long straight hair. And they had the same pointed ears as Harry. Is this how Harry would look like if he didn't get his normal body back? Somethings, like how lean they were, wasn't startling to Harry, as Harry always knew he was skinnier than most people he knew. But they were tall. If Harry didn't change back, would he end up growing tall like them? That would be neat... Would the chance to be tall, rather than the shortest boy in his age group, be reason enough to want to keep this body? Part of Harry knew it was an absurd thought but the other part of him, that which remembered being taunted for his height all of his life, was still playing with the idea.

"_Come Little one, I shall introduce you to my father_," said Aragorn as he followed the two elves up the stairs. Harry continued to stare at them, wondering about their odd style of clothing.

"_Have you not seen other elves before?"_ asked Aragorn, worry etched in his voice. Apparently, Harry was paying a little too much attention to the elves in front of him. One of the elves looked back at Harry, a concerned look on his face. Harry hid his face into Aragorn's chest, not wanting to answer.

Harry could feel the stress in the air as they walked silently through the halls to Aragorn's father. Harry huffed. He felt as though he had barely any time to figure things out and he was entirely unsure of how much information he should share.

"_It's alright little one, you'll like my father, and you'll love it here in Imladris."_ Aragorn said, his voice soothing Harry somewhat. Harry turned his body slightly to look around him. The halls were just as grand as the outside. They entered a room that appeared to be a study. There was a huge wooden carved desk with parchment and books upon it. The man at the desk looked up as they entered, a broad smile upon his face before they even crossed the foothold of the room.

"_Welcome home Estel, and to you, Little one, welcome to our home. I am Lord Elrond."_ Harry instantly liked the man. He continued to examine the man in front of him, as the man appeared to be studying him back. Harry noted the silver circlet on his head, remembering that Aragorn had called him a lord.

"_Perhaps it's best that the two of you wash up and rest for the evening. I can meet you in your rooms to see to your wounds. I'm sure it was a long journey here."_ Lord Elrond said to Aragorn even as his eyes remained softly upon Harry.

Even though Harry slept most of the journey here, he was tired already. He wasn't sure if it should blame his young body or his injuries, but another bath sounded pleasing to him. So far, this place seemed safe and comforting, but Harry was sure most of that feeling came from Aragorn himself. Harry was suddenly feeling very guilty, remembering the people in the other rooms, the other children who should have been rescued, rather than himself. He bit his lip apprehensively before turning his gaze back to the lord's grey eyes.

"_Can you save them?"_ Harry asked, looking up at the lord. "_Can you go save the others?"_

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	11. Chapter 11

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Authors note: If you're interested in being a Beta, please let me know.

Also, as for when I update. I work a lot, and am still in university full time. Right now, I *should* be doing homework as I had to defer an exam because I was sick, but instead, I'm writing : P  
>But I can't guarantee regular updates.<p>

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Lord Elrond was in the mists of reviewing some reports of Orc attacks in the Lindon area when a messenger came into his office.

"_My lord, Estel has arrived in Imladris and has with him an Elfling,"_ said the guard.

_"An Elfling?"_ Elrond asked, his disbelief evident in his voice.

_"Yes, My Lord. He appears to be a toddler and may need healing." _The guard kept her emotions blank, but Elrond knew that the guard was in turmoil, for no Elf would be calm when confronted with the arrival of a previously unknown Elfling child, especially one that would need healing.

When the doors reopened, it was all Lord Elrond could do to keep himself from outright staring at the little Elfing that came in with his son Estel. The Elfing was a shock to him for more than one reason.

It had been a millennia since the last Elfing birth, for Elves rarely were gifted with the birth of now. Elves could only have children if they wanted them. During times of strife or war, no Elf would ever will a child to be born if there was a chance the child could be in danger of pain or death. With the state of Middle Earth, especially with the rising darkness in the last 500 years, Lord Elrond couldn't imagine any Elf kingdom where it was safe enough to raise a child. And, beyond that, when Elfings were born, all the kingdoms were informed, and celebrations were held throughout Middle Earth. But there had not been any sign, not even a rumour, of an Elfling existing.

Yet, here, before him, was an Elfling and a young one at that. Possibly thirteen years of age by the size of him. The child's black hair was trimmed short and spread around his head in a mess of curls, a custom that was rare amongst the Elfs. Within his own kingdom, there was only one Elf, a scholar, who wore such a style. Some of the other kingdoms had Elves with shortened hair, but it was fairly uncommon. Elrond could only name about a dozen Elves amongst all the kingdoms who wore their hair so shortened.

In some cases, it was a family trait, but Lord Elrond could not determine which lineage the Elfling might have come from, for his curly ebony locks, and bright emerald green eyes matched no family known to Lord Elrond. His eyes were a shade of green which he had never seen among any Elf, Man, Dwarf or even goblin.

The boy looked terribly shy, as though he feared everyone in the room besides Estel. This shocked Lord Elrond, for he had never known an Elfling to fear their own kind.

He could see marks upon the boy's neck where the ranger's shirt had ridden down. His hands were rough and bandaged, and his feet that poked out from under Estel's arms were riddled with discoloured and broken skin. It struck at Lord Elrond's heart to imagine what the child had gone though.

He knew in his soul that this child had no living parents or elders caring for him, for no Elf would ever had left a child into such a fate that would harm him so.

Elrond introduced himself, and waited but a moment to see if Estel would introduce the child, but Estel simply looked back at him, a look of exhaustion and despair etched into his face. One that told Elrond that they would be speaking into the late hours of the night.

He could see how exhausted the child was, and now that they were safe in the kingdom, there was no reason to rush and speak with the child to get information. He set his mind upon speaking to him in the morning, or perhaps in a few days once the child was in sound mind. He gave a signal to one of the guards in the back to set up some food and a bath for the boy, and the guard quickly took off to the healing hall to set up a private room for the two guests.

Lord Elrond knew the child would need to be adopted by a family, since he suspected that no other family existed for him. So many questions arose in his mind. Who should adopt him? How long should he wait to confirm he had no family left? Who would know how to raise this orphaned child well, and also deal with the trauma the child no doubted faced?

_"Perhaps it's best that the two of you wash up and rest for the evening. I can meet you in your rooms to see to your wounds. I'm sure it was a long journey here,"_ he said.

Just as Estel moved to exit the chambers and go to the healing rooms, the little boy piped up in the musical soft voice that only Elfing's had.

_"Can you save them? Can you go save the others?"_

Others? Could it be that there were other Elfings? The idea was too impossible for Lord Elrond to fathom.

_"Which others do you speak of, little one?" _he asked, moving himself before the child and lowering his body to his knees so he was at eye level with the child. The Elfling bit his lip and his bruised fingers fumbled with the neck lining of his shirt. Then his bright eyes made their way back to Lord Elrond.

_"The others at the house I was kept in. Some were children like me. Others were adults. I don't know the name of the town."_

Here the little one looked up at Estel, then flickered his eyes back at Lord Elrond before staring at the ground.

_"It was the same town Aragorn found me in. It was in a basement in a house. I can tell you which house."_

_"Were there other Elves there?"_ Lord Elrond asked, wondering if perhaps his family was there.

He looked up at Lord Elrond, puzzling, trying to determine if any seemed to be Elves. Did the boy not see the others? Could he not instinctively know if he was around Elves? Lord Elrond feared the child had been quite damaged to lack the natural Elven sense that told them of others who were near.

_"I don't know,"_ he answered. His hand tightened further, his fist turning a pale white from the lack of circulation.

_"It's all right, little one,"_ Lord Elrond said, moving closer to him, and taking the Elfing's fist into his hand and spreading out his fingers. He pressed the hand in his, warming it with the heat from his own.

_"Where do we go to rescue them?"_ Elrond asked. The child was watching his hand in Lord Elrond's. Lord Elrond could feel how hot the Elfing's body was, which contrasted deeply with the cold chill of his hands. Lord Elrond could not bear to wait any longer to heal the was a sick Elfling.

_"Come, we shall go to the healing rooms. Styleld here will join us. As we walk, could you tell him where he should venture to find these people in need of help?"_

Elrond listened to the soft voice of the Elfling, his musical gate unable to be matched by even the most talented voice of an Elf singer. He smiled softl, for he had missed the treasured voices and laughter that Elfing's shared. He looked forward to the smiles and laughs that this child would undoubtedly share with time.

As they entered the healing room, the boy yawned deeply, his hand trailing up Estel's shirt. He shifted in Estel's arms, getting more comfortable. Elrond could not dare ask Estel to relinquish his hold on the child, the one person the Elfing seemed to trust. So he motioned for Estel to sit upon the awaiting bed and began checking the Elfling over.

_"Styleld, go to Lord Glorfindel and have him set out at once,"_ Lord Elrond spoke, as he prepared the tinctures and pastes at the bedside. "Ensure the town is fully aware of our visit, and let there be no lingering questions about our involvement with their people."

The relations between man and Elves had been strained in the last few hundred years as the darkness spread across the lands. The Elves' inability to stop the darkness from entering the human's towns was seen as an attack by the Elves, as if they chose to let the darkness linger. The humans were unaware of the raids Lord Elrond had organized to destroy as many Orcs and creatures of darkness, even in those lands too far away to be of any concern to the Elfs. The actions in this town could either help, or destroy, any lasting relationship between the town and the Kingdom.

He turned his attention back to the Elfing, knowing that Glorfindel would quickly set out and help the injured. The child's eyes were half closed and his breathing was even. It was dark enough that the boy might feel a bit of modesty, since his clothes would have to be removed to treat all the wounds. And he would definitely need a bath, perhaps with some essence of clover leaf to aid in the healing and dull the senses.

The boy was so tired that he didn't appear to notice any movements around him.

_"Alright little one, I am going to remove your clothing now to better heal you."_

The boy frowned up at Lord Elrond, but didn't protest as the shirt was removed. It took all of Elrond's patience to not react to the wounds that were upon the boy's body. Some appeared to have been months old, others just days. Some looked partially mended, and some wounds had been closed up well while others appeared to have been left to heal on their own. He could see there were some bones that had to be reset. The Elfing was much worse off than Elrond had suspected.

After giving the child a bath, he offered up a tea that would put the child in a deep sleep. Lord Elrond knew that resetting the bones would hurt, and this tea offered the child a painless sleep where he could heal. The boy drank it easily, frowning at the bitter sweet taste. He raised his eyes up at Estel, and after seeing him urging him to drink, the Elfing closed his eyes and finished it off. Within moments, he was fast asleep and would not wake for days.

Lord Elrond made swift work of resetting the bones and mending the wounds. It would be a few weeks before Lord Elrond would allow the boy to be awakened for any period of time, as he wished to save the child from the pain of recovery.

He wondered what to do with the child and with whom to find him a family to take care of him. He was tempted to take the child within his own family but wondered at the selfishness of such an act. Not only would that leave a kingdom without a fully invested king when there were other Elves quite able to love and raise the child, but he had been blessed with three born children of his own, and an adopted son already, while there were some Elves within his kingdom who yearned to have even a single child.

And while his heart knew Estel would make an amazing father, he knew it would be cruel to the child. For while Estel was adopted into the Elf kingdom, he was a Dunedain, and would only live another 100 years, if they were lucky. For while the Dunedain lived longer than man, their lives were still too short compared to the Elves. The child would just reached adulthood when Estel was nearing his death, and Elrond could not bear to have the child loose more family at such a young age.

He raised his eyes to his son, a silent request that brought Estel to speak of this journey from Rhudaur to Tirythem, then to Imladris.

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If you like it, tell me :)

If you don't, be gentle, but you can tell me :)

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	12. Chapter 12

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

Authors note:I'm having a rough Christmas, so I decided to post this today, since the random reviews make me happy. Hopefully there are some other people on FF during the holidays too.

Hope you all are having a great time with your families.

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It had been a tiring week for Glorfindel. The Orcs had been multiplying, and he was training more of the soldiers on the different tactics for herding and killing them. While the soldiers were already well trained, he knew one minor mishaps could end a life, and the lives of the other elves, all whom he loved dearly. He could not bear the thought of losing even one of them to the Orcs. He knew that any life that was lost due to an error, an untrained mishaps, would haunt him forever, just as the guilt of those already lost continued to haunt him. But most of the soldiers were well trained, especially those who were several millennia old. It was mostly the younger ones that concerned him. Fingolis was only 1500 years old, and Mahlas was 2300 years old. Both old enough, but still lacking some specialized techniques that could help them. Then there was Pendril who had only decided to become a soldier in the last century. Even with his age going past 3000, he had not trained himself beyond the basics that all Elves were taught.

He had just finished training some of the leaders, which tactics to teach, how to set up the best teams. The spiders were making their ways closer to the northern borders, and even though they were not yet a threat to the kingdom, he knew they needed to be cut down as much as possible. He clenched his jaw in anger, frustrated at the darkness that was sweeping the lands. However, he knew that his lands were fairing much better than some others, such as the beautiful Greenwood that has since become Mirkwood because of the darkness that now roamed there. His musings were interrupted with a knocking on his door.

"King Elrond has a mission for you," said Styleld. Glorfindel could see the tightness in the jaw of the soldier, and wondered at its origins. What terrible tragedy must have occurred, for Elves, especially trained guards and soldiers, rarely gave glimpses of their emotions without their permission.

"An Elfling was found by Estel and brought here from the neighbouring town of Tirythem," he stated, his eyes reflecting the fury within him. "Lord Elrond has asked you to set up a team to go there and rescue the other humans who have suffered the same fate as the Elfling, and to bring the offenders back with you. He asks that you fensure the town understands our motives." Styleld rested his arm against his forehead, closing his eyes. He continued to speak to Glorfindel about the details of the location and those who needed help. It was easy for Glorfindel to separate his attention between listening to the guard and wondering about the fate of the Elfling. To have affected Styleld so deeply...

Glorfindel nodded at Styleld as he finished his request, confirming the receipt of the message. He quickly went up to the healing room. He wanted to gather some information from Estel, for he would have a good idea about who was involved that he would bring back to Imladris.

As he entered the room, Lord Elrond's eyes flicked to his, and quickly back to the child he was healing. It was all he could to but stare at the child, each wound staring out at him as if he were the one being whipped and lashed. His hand gripped the doorway, keeping himself steady.

"You need details, I assume?" Estel said, as he ran his hands through the Elfling's dark hair.

He nodded and made his way over to Estel, least Estel's voice wake the child from his slumber. He listened to all the details, his mind strategising. But at the same time, his attention was clearly upon the child lying there.

"He will still be here when you return," said Lord Elrond softly. Glorfindel gave a small smile, realizing that his friend and leader, Lord Elrond, would know exactly what his mind was preoccupied with.

"Let the punishments be carried out in our kingdom," said Lord Elrond as Glrofindel turned to leave.

He set up a team of twenty. He knew it was more then what was necessary, but he wished to work swiftly and have enough soldiers with him to impress upon the people of the town the severity of the situation. Also... He wanted enough soldiers following him so that he would not falter. For a part of him wished to hand out judgement immediately on the filthy people who would dare harm any child in such ways.

The team did not know the full details, but by then, the whole kingdom had heard about the Elfling and his rest in the healing rooms that would last at least a full moon.

He was thankful for the Elven armour that made no noise against the soldier's bodies as they made their way towards the town.

As the soldiers entered the town, all of the people who saw them immediately went quiet. Glorfindel lead the soldiers to the house that the Elfling identified. The house stank of sweat and blood. However, Glorfindel knew that his superior sense of smell caught more than that of a regular man, and could not fault the neighbours for missing it.

He could hear the whimpering of someone though the walls, and it urged him to hurry. He motioned with his hands for two of the soldiers to head to the back. A small curly blond child was brought in front of him. This child seemed well enough and looked unharmed. He kept the child near him in the custody of another soldier.

Then he could hear the shouting from a woman in the back. She appeared as described; Thin and waspy, but even if he had no description to go by, her mannerisms gave her away. For her whole being screamed of guilt, of being caught. She was tied up quickly and gagged, and left by the side of the house. Two more men were carried out, again from the back.

Glorfindel feared what it meant, that the people of the house were exiting before they had even entered. He motioned for the solders to enter through the front. He watched as a large man was yelling and attempting to free himself from his soldier. However, Glorfindel had never met a human who could successfully fight one-on-one against an Elf, expecially one who had millennia of training behind him. The large man was quickly subdued and gagged, then placed with the others.

Glorfindel then entered the house behind his soldiers. Already, the soldiers were coming up the stairs with people so injured and starved, that it took away his breath. He didn't understand how anyone could do this to another. Two children, not even in their teenage years, were brought up the stairs. His eyes hardened, and he was tempted to take vengeance at that very moment. However, the eyes of the other soldiers were watching his moves, taking their cues from his. As long as he held strong, they would also remain strong and withhold themselves from taking any vengeance themselves.

As the wounded were laid upon the ground outside the house, the crowd of people from the surrounding homes continued to watch us with terror in their eyes. Many of them appeared to recognize those who were being tied up. Glorfindel, and several of his soliders, knew common tongue and were listening to the conversations and the startled comments that arose. One woman, who had come from a home only three houses down, had rushed over the moment her eyes rested upon the children. She cried at the sight, calling out to her child that laid there. It must have been a horrible realization for her when she realized that her missing child was hidden on the same street as her, and in such horrible condition.

Glorfindel's heart mourned for the people of this town. He could clearly see that the people had not known about, or condoned, the tragedy that was happening in this house. He realized why Elrond requested to have the rescue done so openly. For it wasn't simply for the humans in the town to understand the soldiers' actions, it was also for the soldiers to clearly distinguish the difference between the few evil humans and their deeds and the rest of the innocent town folk.

Three of his soldiers went off into the town at Glorfindel's request to search for a few other men that Estel had identified from the Inn, those who had been hunting the little Elfling. It didn't take them long to return with three men in their hold. Two others that Estel had not spoke of were added to the group of captives. Glorfindel did not know the circumstances, for they were not previously identified, but Glorfindel knew his soldiers, and knew the humans would not have been taken without good reason.

In all, there were nine people to bring back to the kingdom. And there were seven injured people in need of healing. Glorfindel walked in front of his soldiers looking out at the crowd that continued to form. People stared and pointed, and some were crying. Only the one woman had left the crowd to see her child – the rest stayed in the cluster of townfolk, fearful of drawing the soldier's attention upon them.

"People of Tirythem, I am Glorfindel of Imladris, of Rivendell. These people of this house, have held captive and harmed your youth, your men and women, and one of our Elflings." Glorfindel's eyes hardened as he looked out into the crowd. Some of them peered down at the wounded that had been rescued, attempting to lay their eyes upon the Elfling. Others grew in fear, for they knew how cherished Elven children were, and feared retribution upon their whole town. And Glorfindel knew that even though the elves would not outright blame the town, the town would always be plagued with the stain that this was where one of their innocent Elflings was held captive and tortured.

"These are your culprits," Glorfindel said to the crowd. Each of the nine captives were lifted in turn so that the crowd could see their faces. Some of the crowd was startled at the identities of those captured by the Elves.

"And these are the injured, the survivors of those terrible deeds. I know not if there were others. We have taken our Elfling back to our home already. And these nine will join us in our kingdom to stand trial and receive their due," Glorfindel ordered, his eyes staring steadfast upon the crowd, leaving no room for discussion. There were a few in the crowd who seemed to want to speak up, to say what, Glorfindel was not sure. To have them released? Or to have them stand trial here? But they silenced before they spoke at the sight of his glare, and a few by the nudge of their neighbours heeding them to stay quiet.

"Your injured need help." He eyed the crowd, trying to identify who the healers were. "I shall leave two of my healers to aid you in healing the injured." Many of the people in the crowd appeared relieved at this. He motioned to two of the soldiers who were also healers, and they nodded, and continued to work on the injured. They had already begun using their healing pastes and tinctures that they had brought with them, since they anticipated many injured from the report they were given. Based on Glorfindel's experience over the years, he gave an assessment of the injured and quickly determined that they would all survive if given enough healing and care.

Glorfindel asked the crowd for all healers, and those willing to help, to come forward. The town folk were tentative and scared, but a few did come forward. Within minutes, after being reassured that they would not be harmed, they began helping their injured. They called out for blankets from neighbours, and for those injured whom they recognized, they ordered scouts out to find their family members. Even though their healers were not as skilled as the Elven healers, it would do good for the town to feel useful, and to feel as though they were working with the Elven people.

The rest of the soldiers returned to formation, each of the captives held steady by a soldier. Glorfindel pulled one soldier out of the formation to remain behind with the healing Elves, as he knew the Elves would become so absorbed in their healing that they would lose their awareness of any possible threats.

He led the soldiers and captives back to the kingdom. Again, the soldiers, even though they did not watch him directly, were paying careful attention to him to gage his intentions and actions. He kept himself calm, as he knew they were following his lead, even though he desperately wanted to end the lives of those captive. But he knew there were questions to be answered, and that Lord Elrond would be the one to make any final decisions.

The walk back to Imladris was slow. Many of the humans were clumsy, and some were angered, and attempted to get away, as futile as that was. But the Elves were unhurried at that point. They had finished what they had set out to do.

When they arrived at Imladris, the captives were immediately put into the dungeons. They were all kept separate from one another, and they were hung by their wrist upon the walls, their feet touching the ground but unable to go anywhere. Here they would wait for when they were questioned.

Such terrible anger rose in Glorfindel as he thought of the injured Elfling, the injured human children, women and men. Before he headed up to the rooms of healing to see how the Elfling was fairing, he couldn't help but give in to the vindictive part of himself that cried out for vengeance.

"They are not to be given any food or water, for they have no hunger or thirst to quench that they have not already wasted upon their victims."

The soldiers who armed the dungeons looked at Glrofindel with surprise, for they had always treated their captives in the dungeons well until trials were done, and even then, punishment was handed out swiftly and with great care. But upon seeing Glorfindel's haunted expression, the soldier nodded his confirmation.

As he headed up to visit the Elfling child, he prayed to the Valar that the healing would happen swiftly and gently for the little Elfling.

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I like reviews :)

If you like it, tell me :)

If you don't, be gentle, but you can tell me :)

If you see a big flaw, be gentle, but you can tell me :)


	13. Chapter 13

Finishing the war on Voldemort, Harry finds himself landing in Middle Earth as a young Elf. His journey is filled with dangers Harry could never have imagined. Horrors hidden in Middle Earth almost break Harry. His journey towards safety eventually leads him to a new family in an Elf kingdom, but how long will it be before he trusts those who have come to love him?

Mentions of child abuse and angst.

Authors note: For those who already read this, I am so sorry! I'm not sure what caused the text to turn to code. It's fixed for this chapter now... :(

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Aragorn had been watching his father apply pastes onto the various wounds on the Elfling's body. A bright yellow paste was rubbed into the bruises, while a red paste was gently layered into the open cuts. Aragorn could already see that the broken bones appeared to be mending well.

It had been three days at this point, since Aragorn had brought the Elfling to Imladris, and Aragorn had not yet seen his father take a break. He had always been impressed with the stamina that Elves had, and had felt guilty that his own heritage did not afford him the same strength to offer the child. For already, Aragorn had slept several hours. Alas, he knew there was nothing to be done about it, and he was simply grateful to be able to bring the Elfling to his home.

Aragorn had not doubt that this child would have want for nothing, for his father had obviously already fallen in love with the little one.

"Estel," Lord Erond said, taking a moment to still his hands as he watched Aragorn. "Perhaps you should go to the armery. There are some soldiers who have need to let go of their stillness, as their minds wonder too much at this time."

Aragorn gave a small smile back at his father, knowing that what his father truly meant, was that Aragorn himself needed to release some tension. He stared at the child's pale skin while he thought it over. A weariness had taken hold over his body and his mind during the several days past.

"Go Estel. You can return when you are done and rest in the second bed." His father's amused eyes watched him for another moment, before Aragorn was dismissed by his father as he returned to applying another paste onto the Elfling's hand.

"Very well, I shall return shortly," Aragorn muttered, knowing his father's attention was elsewhere.

About a week's time had passed, and Aragorn could see that many of the wounds had disappeared from the Elfling's body. He knew there was still a lot of work to be done, as mending of the bones took a long time to heal completely, but the bruises and cuts had almost all vanished from the Elfing's body. Aragorn could see that his father now focused his attention on bring his general health back, as the boy was looking less starved, and the bags under the Elfling's eyes had begun to disappear. The soft glow that the Elfling gave seemed to be a little brighter already. He was happy that the boy was healing physically, but he worried about the healing for the boy's mind and spirit, for all that the boy had seen would surely cause wounds. However, Aragorn was sure his father would either counsel the child himself, or find the best mind healers to tend to him.

Aragorn looked over as the door to the healing room was opened, and Glorfindel made his way over to the Elfling. He looked run down, as if he had not slept the entire week.

"I am glad at your return. How do you and your soldiers fare?" asked Aragorn, as he swept his eyes up and down Glorfindel's form, searching for any wounds or tears that might indicate he was injured.

"It went as well as could be, considering the circumstances." Glorfindel said, his eyes locked on the Elfling on the bed. He walked forward, his feet as silent as ever, and he rested his hand upon the child's face.

"The others have been returned to the town folk. I left Auzriel and Kilsomel at the town to aid in the healing, but I judge they shall all return to well-enough health." He trailed his hand up the boy's face and though his hair. It seemed to calm him, to sooth the turmoil that lingered in him.

"Some of the victims have already been returned to their families." Here Glorfindel trailed his hand over the boy's arms, his fingers skimming the unblemished skin where only a few days ago, there were gashes and bruises.

"We have nine in our custody…" Glorfindel said, his voice trailing off.

Aragorn could see indecision upon the man's face and he wondered at its cause.

"Glorfindel, my friend, you cannot blame yourself for what has been, and what was unknown. Nor will I or anyone else blame you for anything you may have done to those nine."

Glorfindel turned and looked back at Aragorn, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I have wonder, as to whether I have done too much," Glorfindel said as a weary smile took over his face. "But yet, more of me fears that I have not done enough. For they still live and breathe, and the only marks upon them are the scruff marks upon their feet from the walk, so unaccustomed to labour as they are." Glorfindel shook his head, as though trying to dispense the thoughts from his very mind.

"How such foul beings can exist in days like this, when such darkness crawls across the lands. Is it this darkness that has entered the minds of these men, and women and brought about those foul acts… Or is this darkness that crosses our lands as natural as the darkness that already lingered in men? Is the darkness just attempting to reclaim its rightful place beside the light? A balance of both good and evil in the world? If so, is there any good in trying to quell the darkness, if it will only continue to reclaim its place?"

Aragorn could not bear to see his friend so forlorn.

"Come, my friend, you are troubled as we all are." Aragorn said, as he closed his eyes, his vision overtaken by image of the Elfling when Aragorn first saw him. "Come now, have yourself a wash and rest some. Things shall get better now." Aragorn gave Glorfindel an intense look. "The Elfling is here in our care, and we shall be the light that this child needs."

Glorfindel stared back for a few moments, his face unguarded but still unreadable.

"My friend, you are right" he said after a few moments. He gave Aragorn a small smile before leaning down and kissing the Elfling's forehead. He gazed softly at the child before leaning down and whispering, "Take care, little one, for I shall watch over you."

Glrofindel's hand clamped down on Aragorn's shoulder as he headed out of the room.

Aragorn returned to the Elfling's side, and wondered what changes this child would bring to Middle Earth, as he had already affected so many.

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